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OPEN AIR STORIES 







EASY READING 
LIBRARY OF “JUST 
RIGHT BOOKS” 

The Tiddly Winks 
Open Air Stories 
Surprise Stories 
Gingerbread Boy 
The Party Twins 
Doll Land Stories 
The Treasure Twins 
Tale of Curly Tail 
Washington’s Boyhood 
Reading Time Stories 
Comical Circus Stories 
Knowledge Primer Games 
Real Out-of-Door Stories 
Jolly Polly and Curly Tail 
Fifty Funny Animal Tales 
The Flower and Berry Babies 
In and Out-Door Playgames 
A Child’s Garden of Verses 
Busy Fingers Drawing Primer 
Happy Manikin in Manners Town 
The Vegetable and Fruit Children 
The Dinner That Was Always There 
Six Tiddly Winks and The A to 
Zees 

Published by 

ALBERT WHITMAN & CO. 

Chicago, U. S. A. 









Four Pairs of Feet Run as Fast as They Can Go 

(From “In a Basket”) 


MJG I' 1923 
























OPEN AIR 
STORIES 

Real stories of birds and animals 

Witten by Clara JDenton 
Illustrated by Vera E Stone 



A JUST RIGHT BOOK” 

Published by 

ALBERT WHITMAN COMPANY 
CHICAGO USA 


OPEN AIR STORIES 

Copyright, 1923, by Albert Whitman & Company 
Chicago, U. S. A. 





A JUST RIGHT BOOK 
MADE IN THE U. S. A. 


















FOREWORD 

These stories by Clara J. Denton, the well known 
writer for children, are something new and unusual 
in the way of stories for the little folks. They give 
us real stories of the real doings of live creatures. A 
class of reading for children which is altogether too 
uncommon. They are not fairy stories, nor imaginary 
deeds of imaginary animals, although often even more 
wonderful than fairy tales, but they recount actual 
happenings, and in many cases portray unsuspected 
capabilities in ordinary every day birds, animals and 
insects. Give them to the children who are persist¬ 
ently asking for “stories about things which really hap¬ 
pened,” and you will not be disappointed in the chil¬ 
dren’s assimilation of the stories, nor in the wholesome 
morals which the little ones will unconsciously absorb. 

Unlike many stories of this character, they are all 
vouched for by the author, who has ever been an 
observer of all living creatures, and has never lost an 
opportunity to record facts which she has seen with 
her own observing eyes. 

The book should find a place in every home and 
school library, where it is certain to meet a warm wel¬ 
come. 

There are no dry and uninteresting details in the 
pages, but everything is told in a bright and attractive 
manner. 


NOTE 

The true stories in this 
book collection, Open Air 
Stories, which have ap¬ 
peared in print before are 
here used by permission 
by the original publisher 
and thanks is given to 
each publication as fol¬ 
lows: 

The Outlook for, “The 
Adopted Chick”; The 
Progressive Teacher for, 
“In a Basket”; Jewel’s 
Magazine for, “The 
Stolen Bag of Sugar”; 
Kings Own for, “Tip¬ 
toes.” 


6 



CONTENTS 

The Adopted Chick......Page 11 

The Stolen Bag of Sugar.. i i .. : . “ 24 

Tiptoes . “ 27 

In a Basket. “ 31 

A Queer Pet. “ 39 

Rachel . “ 50 

Watching the Pig. “ 59 

A Cow In the Kitchen. “ 75 

The Visit Next Door. “ 80 

Toodles Found a Way. “ 87 

A Big Crumb and a Little Bird. “ 94 

Happy’s Way. “ 102 


7 











































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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Four Pairs of Feet Run as Fast as They Could Go.Frontispiece 

They Fixed Up a Nice Box for Her.. .*...Page 10 

She and the White Leghorn Talked It Over All Afternoon... “ 11 

Tom, the House Cat, Told Me Today. “ 15 

He Spied a Hole In the Wire Netting. * 21 

A Whole Colony of Wasps. “ 24 

Flew at the Hen and Threw Her Paws Around Her. “ 29 

They Gave Her a Daily Scrubbing. “ 35 

He Would Hold His Food In His Hands. “ 41 

So Maisie Kept Out of His Way and They Had a Merry Game “ 45 

Maisie Found Him Backing Down the Steps. “ 47 

The Barrel Was Turned Over on Its Side. “ 49 

The Mice Ate a Hole In Their Fine Hair Mattress... “ 51 • 

What Do You Think Was In It?. “ 57 

I Poked About In the Straw. “ 59 

She Loved to Hear It Squeal. “ 74 

She Heard a Clattering In the Kitchen. “ 75 

She Had Twelve Fluffy White Chicks. “ 80 

There Is That Old Black Hen from Next Door. “ 83 

He Was Soon Sound Asleep on the Soft Cushion. “ 87 

Throwing Bread Crumbs to the Fish. “ 95 

“Yes, I’ll Remember,” She Said, Nodding Her Little Head... “ 101 

This Window Opened on the Roof of a High Porch. “ 102 


9 


























They Fixed Up a Nice Box for Her 

(See Story “Rachel”) 

% 


10 





































































































Open Air Stories 



She and the White Leghorn Talked It Over All Afternoon 


THE ADOPTED CHICK 

The Minorca rooster, the handsom¬ 
est fowl in the poultry yard, was sick, 
and it was whispered about among his 
friends and relatives that he was going 
to die. 


11 








12 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


“Yes,” said the white Leghorn hen, 
who had scratched her way through 
five or six summers, “he will not be 
around here long, for I have noticed 
when fowls begin to hang their heads 
they soon slip away somehow and are 
seen no more.” 

However, the white Leghorn, 
although so very wise, had not yet 
learned that humans are not all alike. 
In spite of her long experience, she was 
much surprised at the things that 
happened in the next few hours. 

In the first place, the sick Minorca 
was given his food in a separate dish, 
very tempting food it appeared, too; 
then, next, the master took him up in 
his arms and carried him into the warm 
hen-house where the incubator and the 
brooder were kept. 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


13 


After that, when on warm days the 
door of the hen-house was open, the 
brood gazed through the wire netting 
at the forlorn-looking fowl lying on a 
bunch of straw near the lamp of the 
incubator. His once beautiful green¬ 
ish-black feathers had lost their gloss, 
and his once gay scarlet comb and 
wattles hung limply about his head in 
pale pinkness. 

The bantam rooster “craw-crawed” 
softly to himself as he moved along, 
followed by his troop of dainty little 
hens, and when he was well out of the 
Minorca’s sight, he gave a proud crow 
that stretched his handsome little 
throat to its utmost. 

“You see,” he said, flying on top of 
an overturned wash tub, “that is what 
happens to a bird that thinks so much 




14 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


of himself and gives himself airs,” and 
then he flapped his wings hard and 
gave three lusty crows. 

4 ‘But,” said the white Leghorn hen, 
‘‘I can’t understand why our master 
doesn’t kill that miserable old Mi¬ 
norca.” 

“Yes,” said the Plymouth Rock, “I 
should think so too, for Tom, the 
house-cat, who understands the talk 
of humans so much better than we do, 
told me today there are one hundred 
Minorca eggs in the incubator, and 
they are expected to hatch tomorrow.” 

“What in the world do they want 
of so many Minorcas?” said the Buff 
Cochin; “they are poor, delicate things 
at the best,” and she gave a sidelong 
peck at a spruce young Minorca hen 
who stood near listening to all the talk. 




OPEN AIR STORIES 15 



‘Torn, the House Cat, Told Me Today- 


The next day the house-cat went 
strolling around the poultry-yard, and 
as he went he whispered a strange piece 
of news through the wire fence: 

“Out of the one hundred eggs put 
into the incubator only twelve chickens 
were hatched.” 

How the hens cackled and clucked 
and squawked over this terrible fail¬ 
ure. 










16 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


“So much for this proud man, our 
master,” said first one and then anoth¬ 
er; “he thinks he and his incubator 
are of more consequence than all the 
hens in the poultry-yard put together. 
Well, he deserves his great disappoint¬ 
ment; and now we will see what his 
‘brooder’ will do for the little chicks, 
poor dears! never to be clucked to, 
never to be scratched for, in all their 
blessed lives!” 

As time went on the mild days be¬ 
came more frequent, and the flock often 
stood for many minutes at a time 
watching the little chicks running in 
and out of the brooder. Meanwhile 
the Minorca lay in the warmest corner 
of the hen-house on his clean patch of 
straw, but never even turned his head 
to look at his old comrades. 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


17 


“Just as good as dead,” whispered 
the bantam rooster one day, and this 
time he ventured to crow right in the 
doorway. 

But the sharp old white Leghorn 
hen had been looking very closely at 
the chicks picking up food in the outer 
part of the brooder. 

“What has become of the chicks?” 
she whispered to the bantam rooster. 
“It seems to me that the flock is not 
nearly so large as it used to be.” 

The bantam rooster perked his head 
on one side, and tried to look wise; but 
he hadn’t a good head for figures, so 
he said lightly: 

“Oh, they are just the same, my 
dear Mrs. Leghorn—just the same, I 
assure you.” 




18 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


But the White Leghorn was not sat¬ 
isfied, and she and the Plymouth Rock 
talked the matter over all the after¬ 
noon. 

Well indeed might they wonder, for 
some strange disease, which their ow¬ 
ner did not understand, had carried 
the poor little chicks off, until there 
were only four left in the brooder. 

But one mild March day the flock 
stood longer than usual staring 
through the wire netting, for there be¬ 
fore them were two things which they 
could not well understand; there was 
only one little lonesome chick feeding 
in the brooder, and the Minorca 
rooster was up and walking about! 

While they all stood gazing in silent 
astonishment, “Shoo, shoo!” cried a 
voice behind them, and they scattered 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


19 


to a safe distance, where they could 
still watch their master’s movements. 

Pretty soon he came out of the hen¬ 
house, carrying on his right arm the 
Minorca rooster, and in his left hand 
the last lonesome little chick. He put 
the chicken down on the warm, soft 
earth, and he at once ran about as 
happy and gay as a chicken could pos¬ 
sibly be. The Minorca was carried to 
a fenced-in corner of the poultry-yard, 
and when the master had gone the 
flock hastened to look the matter up. 
They found the rooster provided with 
food and water, and a fine shelter from 
the rain and the chilly night air. 

As the Minorca made no replies to 
the crowing of the Bantam rooster, 




20 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


or the cackling of the various hens, 
they soon all wandered off and left 
him to himself. 

By and by it began to rain hard and 
fast, and the little chicken who had 
been so happy ran “yipping” about 
in a very lonesome way. He tried to 
share the shelter of the larger fowls, 
but with many sharp pecks and much 
squawking they drove him off, the hen¬ 
house was closed, and his master seem¬ 
ed to have forgotten him, so there was 
nothing left for him but to run up and 
down the poultry-yard crying with all 
his might. 

But in his wild running he came 
near the fence that shut in the Mi¬ 
norca rooster, and his bright eyes at 
once spied a little hole in the wire 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


21 



He Spied a Hole In the Wire Netting 


netting; he quickly squeezed himself 
through the gap and ran to the Mi¬ 
norca’s comfortable shelter. 

A few minutes after the master of 
the poultry-yard came wheeling home 
in great haste. He had remembered 
the baby chick. But as he failed to 
find him anywhere in the yard, he 
made up his mind that he must have 
gone off into some corner and died. 





22 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


“Poor little thing! the rain was too 
much for it,” he thought; “but I’ll look 
after the Minorca; I don’t want to 
lose him,” 

When he came to the Minorca’s pen, 
lo! there was the good old fellow sitting 
flat on the ground, under his snug 
roof; and under his wing, safe and cozy, 
was the baby chick chirping away to 
itself softly and contentedly. 

After that the little chick slept under 
the Minorca’s wing through all the 
chilly nights, and ran to him also when 
the days were cold and damp. 

When the warm weather came, and 
the fowls were turned out to roam 
the meadows, these two kept con¬ 
stantly together; the old rooster 
scratched for his adopted baby, called 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


23 


it when he found a choice morsel to 
eat, and fought for it like a good old 
motherly hen. 

Now, don’t you think that rooster 
was worth saving? The whole family 
is ready to praise and pet the hand¬ 
some fellow now, and however hungry 
they may become for chicken pie, you 
may rest assured the Minorca rooster’s 
neck is safe. 











A Whole Colony of Wasps 


THE STOLEN BAG OF SUGAR 

The bag of sugar was in a camp and 
the people who belonged there were off 
on the lake fishing. It was late when 
they returned and as they were tired 
they went at once to bed in another 
tent. 

In the morning when the camper 
whose turn it was to get breakfast, 
went into the tent, the first thing she 

24 





OPEN AIR STORIES 


25 


saw was a black mass of something 
where the bag of sugar had been. In 
a second the black mass moved, and a 
whole colony of wasps flew away. The 
lady went to the table and found a big 
hole, not only in the bag, but also in 
the sugar. 

Then she called out to the other 
campers: “We thought ourselves safe 
here from thieves, but just come and 
see what they have done while we have 
been picnicking and sleeping.” Then 
she showed the bag, and told how it 
looked when she first came into the 
tent. 

“Thieves!” 

“Robbers!” 

“Rascals!” 

These were the names called one after 
the other by the angry campers. But 




26 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


I don’t think the wasps deserved any 
of these hard names, do you? 

The rest of the sugar was taken out 
of the bag and put into a tin box, and 
though the wasps hung around the 
camp for several days, the tin box was 
too much even for their mandibles (or 
jaws) and so they had no more sugar. 

It was all right for the campers, of 
course, but I couldn’t help feeling sorry 
for the wasps. 











TIPTOES 


She was a black and white cat, whose 
four feet were beautifully tipped with 
white. She and Loa had grown up to¬ 
gether and, although cats are not sup¬ 
posed to be so loving as dogs, Tip¬ 
toes, when put to the test, showed her 
love for her mistress. 

An old hen was determined to have 
a nest in the loft over the wood shed, 
and Loa’s mother thought it was bad 
enough to have Tiptoes and her kit¬ 
tens there, without having a hen’s nest 
there too. 


27 








28 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


So Loa was sent to get the hen out. 
The little girl thought it would be an 
easy matter to head the hen toward 
the stairs and then to drive her down. 
The hen, however, had taken a fancy 
to the woodshed loft and was deter¬ 
mined not to be driven down, so she ran 
in every direction except toward the 
stairs. 

At last, in a great rage, she made a 
dash for Loa. 

Loa was near Tiptoe’s box, where 
she was purring happily with her three 
cunning babies, but the moment the 
good old mother cat saw the hen dash 
at Loa, she tore herself away from her 
kittens, flew at the hen and threw her 
paws around her, thus holding her 
back from Loa. The little girl, fearing 
that the hen would be killed, tried to 





Flew at the Hen and Threw Her Paws Around Her 


29 
























30 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


J.jf ' % ' ;■ 

get her away from the cat, but Tip¬ 
toes held on to the poor fowl with all 
her might. 

The hen, in great fright, finally tore 
herself away from the cat, made a mad 
plunge for the window, and dashing 
through the glass, broke it to atoms. 

Tiptoes was not discouraged even 
then, but followed after her. The hen 
reached the ground first and running 
off unharmed, hid away. 

Tiptoes, catlike, landed safely on 
her four feet and, not seeing the hen 
anywhere, she seemed to think the dan¬ 
ger was over. It had been a jump of 
over twelve feet for these two angry 
creatures, but strange to tell, neither 
one was hurt. You may be sure that 
Loa loved Tiptoes more than ever 
after this and kept her carefully until 
she died of old age. 




IN A BASKET 


“I wonder what is the matter with 
Leona,” said Mrs. Breeze, as she gazed 
from the window, up the wide coun¬ 
try road. 

“What is your reason for thinking 
that there is anything the matter with 
her?” asked the grandmother, joining 
her daughter at the window. 

“Reason enough, she is bringing 
home a full lunch basket. She usually 
comes along swinging it in the air, but, 
now, you see, she is carrying it very 
carefully at her side; she must be ill 
if she did not eat her luncheon.” 

“She certainly doesn’t look ill,” re¬ 
turned the grandmother; “she is smil¬ 
ing and seems gay and happy as us¬ 
ual.” 


31 


32 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


Mrs. Breeze, however, continued to 
watch the child anxiously, until she 
came through the gate and drew near 
the house, then a small hole in the side 
of the basket threw light on the matter. 

“Dear me,” exclaimed the mother 
with a sigh, “there is something alive 
in that basket! What sort of a pet do 
you suppose she is bringing home 
now?” 

At that moment Leona bounded 
into the room. 

“Oh, mother!” she exclaimed in joy¬ 
ful tones. “Mr. Douglas gave me the 
dearest little pig, it is so cute!” and 
she took from the basket a tiny white 
pig scarcely a week old. 

“A pig!” exclaimed Mrs. Breeze, 
dropping into a chair. “What on 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


33 


earth do you want of a pig, Leona? 
The next thing I know you will be 
bringing home an elephant.” 

“Wish I could,” was Leona’s an¬ 
swer, as she held the pig at arm’s length 
and then cuddled it up close to her. 

“But what in the world do you mean 
to do, Leona, with that poor, helpless 
little thing these cold spring nights?” 
asked the mother. 

“Oh, we’ll put it in a box with some 
straw and blankets;but now, mother, 
it’s hungry, hear it squeal! Do fix a 
bottle for it just as you do for baby 
brother; this is only a baby, you 
know.” 

“No,” said Mrs. Breeze firmly, “this 
baby cannot have a bottle, that is too 
much. It must learn to drink like 
other pigs.” 




34 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


This was easily said, but Mrs. Breeze 
soon found that it was not so easily 
done. 

She plunged the pig’s pink nose into 
the warm milk over and over again, 
but the only result was a great splash¬ 
ing and a loud squealing. 

However, after the little creature had 
fasted fifteen hours it made up its mind 
to drink. We don’t know whether it 
could have done it sooner or not, but 
from that time when the baby’s milk 
was warmed every three hours, the 
milk for the pig was also warmed. 

In a little while the four children 
began to have great fun with their 
strange pet, to whom they had given 
the name of “Peggy.” They took 
turns in giving her a daily scrubbing, 
which treatment she seemed to enjoy 






Gave Her a 


Daily 


Scrubbing 


35 




























































































36 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


hugely, and “As dirty as a pig” be¬ 
came an unused saying in that family. 

When Peggy was a few weeks old 
she began to run out to the gate to 
meet Leona on her return from school. 
Then one morning she took it into her 
head to follow her to school. It took 
Leona so long to drive her back and 
shut her up that she was late to school, 
so after that she was shut up every 
morning until Leona had been gone a 
few hours. 

But every afternoon about half past 
four, little Miss Peggy would shove 
the gate open with her long, slim nose, 
and making her way straight south 
she would meet Leona about a quarter 
of a mile from home. She never made 
the mistake of going half an hour too 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


37 


early, or too late, and she never turned 
north instead of south after passing 
through the gate. 

Peggy is now a fine big pig and she 
has the run of the barn yard. Three 
times a day with the regularity of a 
clock she comes to the barn yard gate 
and squeals her loudest until she is 
fed. You may think it has become an 
old story to feed her by this time, but 
it has not, and each one of the children 
is glad when it has become his or her 
turn to feed Peggy. 

They do not allow her in the house 
yard, because there is no fence between 
that and the garden and even the best 
trained pig will root up potatoes if it 
gets a chance. She has several times 
shown herself a master hand at that 
business and, if anyone calls out, “Peg- 




38 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


gy is in the garden!” four pair of feet 
run as fast as they can go, to chase her 
out. 

When the children are out-of-doors 
under the trees that skirt the barn 
yard fence, Peggy stays as near to them 
as she can get. When one of the chil¬ 
dren puts a hand through the fence and 
pats her on the back she softly grunts 
her pleasure. I must add right here 
that she still has a regular bath and is 
as clean as an animal can be. 

Peggy is big enough and fat enough 
to be made into pork, but do you sup¬ 
pose that any one of those children 
will ever want a slice of Peggy? 




A QUEER PET 


It belonged to a little girl ten years 
old whose name was Maisie. What 
do you suppose it was? A young but 
full-grown raccoon. Did you ever see 
one? He was of a grizzly, gray color 
with a black streak down the back. 
He was a little larger than a cat and 
not quite so large as a dog. His little 
feet looked exactly as though he were 
wearing black kid gloves on them. 

Maisie soon found that he could do 
a great many things with those funny 
little black feet. He would sit up on 
his hind feet and hold his food in his 
forepaws just as though they were 
dainty little hands. When he was 
given a piece of meat he would wash it 
before he would put it into his mouth 


39 


40 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


if he could find any water. If there 
was no water near he would rub it all 
over with his little forepaws. He would 
even wash a lump of sugar, and look 
very much surprised when it melted 
away, and did not stay in sight as the 
meat did when it was washed. 

One day Maisie gave Dick, that was 
her pet’s name, some milk to drink, so 
when she was not looking he jumped 
on the table, which was set for dinner, 
and stole a piece of bread. This he 
dropped in the milk and ate when it 
was all soaked up. 

Another day when Maisie was in the 
woodshed she heard Dick’s light foot¬ 
steps in the kitchen, so she peeped 
through the crack in the door to see 
what he would do. He went straight 
to the old fashioned safe in which the 







He Would Hold His Food In His Hands 












+ 










41 


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42 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


pans of milk were kept, stood on his 
hind feet, and with his forepaws turned 
the button which held the door fast. 
Then he reached one of those little 
paws into the safe, skimmed the cream 
off of one of the pans with this handy 
f ttle paw, then drew it out and licked 
ft off as though it was the best he had 
ever tasted. He put his naughty little 
paw in again and made another haul 
of the rich cream. By this time Maisie 
thought his fun had gone far enough, 
so she hunted up her mother and told 
her what was going on in the kitchen. 
That was the end of Dick’s feasting, 
for the milk was at once put in a safer 
place. Luckily for Maisie Dick was 
well-tamed when he was given to her, 
so she began at once to play with him, 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


43 


and for this reason she learned some¬ 
thing new about him every day. 

One evening when it was nice and 
warm in the house, Maisie thought it 
would be great fun to take off her 
shoes and stockings and run around 
on the soft carpets. She did not no¬ 
tice Dick who was asleep under her 
Grandfather’s chair. In a few min¬ 
utes he woke up, caught sight of Mai- 
sie’s little white feet, and started right 
after them. Maisie was frightened you 
may be sure, for he had a mouth full 
of very sharp teeth and the pretty 
little hands which looked as if they 
were done up in dainty, kid gloves, 
hid his cruel claws. So Maisie kept 
out of his way and they had a merry 
game all to themselves. After this 
they kept up this sport every evening 




44 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


and the grown-ups thought it great 
fun to watch them. Dick was never 
quite quick enough to get hold of Mai- 
sie’s little toes, although he came 
quite near it several times and Maisie 
had to jump about very lively to keep 
out of his way. 

Another one of his favorite sports 
was to catch the cats, of which there 
were many around, for they all lived 
on a large farm. The cats slept in a 
loft over the woodshed and Dick could 
reach it by climbing a flight of stairs. 
They could hear him at night racing 
across the floor of this loft after a cat 
and then when he had caught one he 
would hug it with all his might, until 
it squealed aloud, when he would drop 
it and chase another one. They had 
seen him several times in the act of 





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So Maisie Kept Out of His IF ay and They Had a Merry Game 


45 








































































46 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


hugging a cat, but they never found 
out why he was so fond of this queer 
sport. Perhaps it was because rac¬ 
coons belong to the bear family. 

If he grew hungry enough he would 
not wait to be fed but would steal 
whatever he could lay his hands, or 
forepaws, on. One day Maisie found 
him backing down the steps which led 
out of the kitchen with a big loaf of 
bread in his forepaws. Another time 
she found him in the same place, car¬ 
rying off in the same way a big butcher 
knife. Of course she knew very well 
what he intended to do with the bread, 
but she never found out what he meant 
to do with the knife, and she had some 
trouble to get both the bread and the 
knife away from him. 




OPEN AIR STORIES_47 



Maisie Found Him Backing Down the Steps 


He was very fond of cookies and if 
the cookie jar was left where he could 
get at it, he would get the cover off 
some way, and then climb into the 
jar, and sitting there eat all the cook¬ 
ies he wanted, purring all the time 
just like a cat. At such times no one 
dared take him out of the cookie jar 
except Maisie and if he was very hun¬ 
gry even she thought it best to put on 











48 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


heavy gloves, for he would growl and 
show his teeth so fiercely that even she 
was a little afraid of him. 

Dick had one very good habit; when 
he wanted to come into the house he 
sat on the doorstep and cleaned every 
bit of dirt from his feet with his tongue, 
then when they were as clean as they 
could be made he would shake his 
head, which made the bell on his neck 
ring softly, and then the door would 
be opened for him. He would come in, 
giving his musical whistle. He always 
either purred or whistled when he was 
quite happy. 

Don’t you think he was a nice pet 
to have even if he did steal his food, 
now and then? But there was this 
good thing about him; he never stole 
anything if he was well fed. 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


49 


Maisie kept him all winter and grew 
every day more fond of him, but when 
warm weather came I suppose he grew 
lonesome to see some creatures of his 
own kind, so he wandered off in search 
of them and Maisie never saw him 
again. You will know that she missed 
him very much and often longed for 
another pet raccoon. 



(From “Rachel”) 






RACHEL 


She was a handsome gray and white 
cat whose home had always been 
among people who lived in pretty 
bungalows. They were quite able to 
feed her well, but because she did not 
belong to anyone in particular, some¬ 
times she was so completely forgotten 
by these well fed people that she would 
have starved to death if gophers and 
mice had not been quite plentiful in 
the gardens and barns near where she 
stayed, but it could hardly be called 
“living.” 

Then one day something happened. 
The people who lived in the prettiest 
bungalow around there found that the 
mice had made a nest in one of their 
clothes presses and had eaten a hole 


50 



The Mice Ate a Hole In Their Fine Hair Mattress 


51 







52 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


in their fine hair mattress. So that 
day when they saw this nice cat sneak¬ 
ing through the garden as if she ex¬ 
pected someone to come after her with 
a stick, the lady of the house said, 
“Why, there goes exactly what we 
want, a nice big kitty. I know by her 
looks that she has no home. Bring 
me a basin of milk and I’ll coax her 
up at once.” 

The milk was brought and after a 
great deal of calling in a coaxing tone 
the gray kitty came within several 
yards of the back door and drank the 
milk which was set out there for her. 
But although she was fed every day, 
and was never scolded or hurt in any 
way, it was weeks before she would 
come up on the back porch to drink 
the milk or eat the dainty bits of meat 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


53 


which were put out for her. So hard 
had been her life, poor thing, that 
even after many months of kind treat¬ 
ment she did not lose the hunted and 
scared look in her eyes, and even after 
many months of a happy life she never 
reached a state where she could purr. 
Isn’t that dreadful to tell? A big, 
healthy cat who had known so few 
really good times that she had for¬ 
gotten how to purr, and did not seem 
able, in spite of all sorts of good treat¬ 
ment, to learn to purr again. They 
found her one morning curled up on 
the cushions of the automobile look¬ 
ing very proud and happy with four 
beautiful kittens, but even then she did 
not purr. 

Well the folks in the bungalow had, 
by this time, learned to think a great 




54 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


deal of Rachel, but they could not let 
her keep her kittens all the while in 
the motor car. So they fixed up a nice 
box for her with cushions in it, making 
a bed soft enough for a queen, and car¬ 
ried her kittens and put them in it. 
The first time they went out to the 
garage, there were the kittens all curled 
up on the cushions of the car. So 
they took her out again, and then they 
covered the car over so carefully that 
Rachel could not find a place to climb 
in herself or to carry her kittens in 
either. 

“Now,” said the good folks, “she 
will have to stay in the box we have 
put there for her.” Did she? No 
indeed. When they went out to the 
garage the next time she and her kit¬ 
tens were nowhere to be seen. After a 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


55 


long time they found her in an old box 
which had been put up for a hen’s nest 
in an old chicken house. So they let 
her stay there, but one morning one 
of the kittens fell out and cried as if it 
were very much hurt. That seemed to 
settle that place. Rachel at once car¬ 
ried the kittens out and laid them on 
the soft, green grass. 

Now this was not a very good place 
for them, because the dew fell very 
heavily at night, but it would do no 
good to find another place for them 
for Rachel would not stay there. No 
matter how fine the spot was, there 
was nothing to do but to go to bed 
and let them stay on the soft grass. 

Well, in the morning there was a 
great time trying to find Rachel and 




56 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


her babies. They were nowhere to be 
seen, everybody hunted high and low, 
at the same time calling her softly. 

In the farthest and darkest corner 
of the garage, was a big barrel out of 
which stuck a rake handle. No one 
had looked in that barrel because they 
thought there would not be room in 
the barrel for the cats and a rake, but 
while they were calling, “Kitty, Kit¬ 
ty,” as coaxingly as they could, out of 
that same barrel jumped Rachel. Then 
the children ran and looked in the bar¬ 
rel. What do you think was in it? 
The rake, an old gasoline stove, a big 
stick of wood, and the four little kittens 
tucked around in odd corners. While 
the children were looking at the queer 
mixture Rachel jumped into the bar¬ 
rel, and they then saw that there was 















I 


4 





■ * . 7 ‘- ; m • 

I • ;• .. •• 

•• ■; 

• , * ■ . 


r 

r 

I 

if-'./ ’ ■" 

r 

i ^ - 1 

t ' 

I 

I 


. ... . s fp*~ 
-V 


•y?-. 

f’ 




» - 

... 




“What Do You Think Was In It?” 




\ 



4 























































58 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


no room in there for her unless she sat 
up on her hind legs, and she must have 
passed the whole night in that most 
cramped position. 

You may know that it wasn’t long 
before everything was pulled out of 
that barrel except the kittens. Then 
some straw was put in, the barrel was 
turned over on its side, dragged out of 
the garage and placed in a nice shady 
spot, and after all this was done 
Rachel seemed quite happy with her 
new quarters, and stayed in them un¬ 
til her babies were grown up and ready 
to start out for themselves. 





WATCHING THE PIG 

“And shall we have a pig?” asked 
Constance. 

“Yes,” said her mother. 

“A real, live pig?” 

“Yes,” said her mother again. 

So when they arrived at the farm it 
was a very happy little girl who jumped 
out of the wagon and without waiting 


59 














60 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


for her father, for he was going back to 
the city after another load of goods, 
ran off to the barn where her father 
had told her the pig was kept. 

Constance was ten years old and 
she had never seen a real live pig nor 
heard one squeal and grunt the way 
her reading books said they did when 
they felt like it, so you see, she did not 
mean to lose any time in getting where 
she could see and hear one for her¬ 
self. 

She dici not stay long at the barn, 
however, but came running back to 
her mother, her father having already 
gone, the tears running down her rosy 
cheeks. 

“0, mother,” she called before she 
reached her mother, “you and father 
have told me something which is not 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


61 


true, for there is no pig out there at 
all. There is a pen there built fast to 
the barn just as father said, but there 
is no pig in it at all.” 

“O, yes,” said the mother, “there 
is certainly a pig there but it is such 
a very little pig that it is hidden in 
the box under the straw. It is taking 
a nap, I suspect.” 

“No,” said Constance, “I took a 
long stick and poked about in the 
straw, and there was not a single thing 
there, not even a mouse.” 

On hearing this news the mother 
thought it was time for her to visit the 
pig pen, so the two set off together for 
the barn, and there sure enough, it 
was just as Constance had said, the 
pig pen was empty. 




62 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


But she also found something else 
which even the sharp eyes of Constance 
had not discovered, and that was a 
hole dug in the soft earth in one corner 
of the pig pen. She pointed it out to 
her daughter and then explained that 
the pig had got away through this 
hole. 

“She has run back to her home 
where her mother and all her brothers 
and sisters are because, you see, it is 
such a little pig, it felt just as you 
would if somebody came here and took 
you away from us, only you are not 
strong enough to run very far, so I am 
afraid you would not have very good 
luck in getting back home. Father 
bought this little pig ten miles away 
and paid six dollars for it, so tomorrow 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


63 


your father will have to take the motor 
and go after it for we cannot afford to 
lose it.” 

So Constance wiped away her tears 
and began to feel quite happy again, 
since she knew that the little pig would 
be brought back to its pen behind the 
barn. 

When they came to the house they 
found a little boy standing near 
the door. He began to speak at once 
in a funny way which Constance could 
not understand at all, although she 
listened very carefully. “All right,” 
said her mother, when the boy at last 
stopped talking, “when my husband 
comes home I will tell him about it.” 
Then the boy turned and ran off as if 
he was glad to get away. 




64 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


“What is it, mother?” asked Con¬ 
stance, as soon as the boy was out of 
hearing. 

“He is a Dutch boy and he does 
not speak very good English, which is 
why you could not understand him,” 
explained her mother, “and he said 
our little pig came to his father’s barn 
this morning and he shut it up to 
keep it from running any farther away. 
Isn’t that fine? So instead of driving 
off ten miles with the motor car, papa 
will just have to go down the road to 
the next neighbor’s.” 

When Constance awoke the next 
morning she found that her father was 
already up, and before she had time 
to ask him a single question, he called 
out, “Well, Constance, Sally is back in 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


65 


her pen again, and you must see to it 
now that she doesn’t get hungry and 
run off again.” 

“Was that what was the matter 
with her?” asked Constance. 

“Yes,” was his answer, “and I am 
very sure she will not dig out again if 
she has all the food and water she 
wants, because she has a nice pen in 
the shade and plenty of nice clean straw 
to sleep in.” 

You may be sure Constance took 
good care of the little pig after that. 
She loved to hear it squeal and grunt 
and to see it chase her around the 
fence of the pen when she brought some 
bran in a basin for it. It grew very 
fast and was soon nearly three times 
as large as it was when her father 
brought it home. Then one day some- 




66 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


thing, all of a sudden, was the matter 
with Sally’s hind legs, so that she 
could not stand up on them. They 
sent for a man who called himself an 
animal doctor and he said Sally must 
be turned out on the soft ground away 
from the boards and where she could 
have plenty of green grass to eat. So 
Sally was turned out of the pen the 
next day. They were not afraid she 
would run away because her hind legs 
were not strong enough to carry her 
very far. But in a very few days she 
surprised them all by digging a hole 
with her fore feet under the fence which 
ran around the door-yard and crawled 
under it. Of course they drove her 
back and stopped up the hole but 
that did no good, for she made a new 
hole right away and came crawling 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


67 


back again. So they made up their 
minds after awhile they would have to 
let her stay in the door yard and that 
Constance would have to keep her 
away from the door for the yard was a 
good big one and there was no reason 
why Sally should want to be so close 
to the house. 

“What will you do when school be¬ 
gins?” asked Constance one day when 
she had chased the naughty Sally until 
she was tired out. 

“It is several weeks before school 
begins and we hope Sally will be well 
enough to stay in her pen by that 
time,” was her mother’s reply. 

But for the present time at least, 
poor little Constance was kept so busy 
running after Sally that she wished 
she had never seen a pig. Finally her 




68 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


mother found an old carriage whip in 
the barn, which she took to the house, 
and whenever Sally came near the door 
she dashed out quickly and before she 
could get away she would hit the bad 
pig a sharp cut across the shoulders. 
Then Sally would run off, put her 
sharp nose under the woven wire fence, 
lift it up and slip under it, but as 
soon as the mother was safely in the 
house Sally would run back again into 
the door yard. 

One day when the mother had 
chased her several times out of the 
yard, only to have her come right back 
again, she drove her not only out of 
the yard but clear behind the barn, 
then she took up her place at the corner 
of the barn where she could not be 
seen by Sally, and waited to see what 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


69 


the creature would do. Pretty soon 
the mother heard the pig coming along 
slowly, grunting softly to herself as 
she came. When she reached the cor¬ 
ner of the barn where the mother was 
in her sight, she gave just one look, 
then with a loud squeal and a long 
jump she ran as fast as she could go 
until she was in her pen and safe in¬ 
side her sleeping box. 

“Well,” said the mother to herself, 
“at least she is afraid of me.” After 
that, if the mother just came out of 
the door when Sally was in the house 
yard the bad little pig would start 
running and would not stop until she 
was safe under the woven wire fence. 

So Constance begged one day that 
she might carry the whip, and as soon 
as Sally came too near she brought 




70 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


the whip down with all her might upon 
Sally’s shoulders, but the naughty pig 
did not even jump or give the faintest 
little squeal. 

Constance in telling about it after¬ 
wards, seemed not to know whether to 
laugh or cry, as she said, “I think 
Sally thought I was trying to pet her 
with the whip.” 

Matters went along in this way until 
Sally’s legs were so much better that 
she was put back into her pen and 
then she was fed a nice warm mess of 
bran twice every day. 

By this time some chickens which 
Constance and her mother had raised, 
were nearly full grown, and as they 
were allowed to run about where they 
liked they were soon in the habit of 
jumping into Sally’s pen and eating 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


71 


out of the trough the nice, warm feed 
which was given her. As the pig ate 
very fast the chickens did not rob her 
of much of her feed. They only picked 
up the crumbs as it were, and for this 
reason the chickens were not driven 
away. 

One morning as the mother was feed¬ 
ing the chickens and counting them as 
usual, she found there were only nine¬ 
teen in the flock instead of twenty as 
there should have been. She thought 
a hawk must have carried off one of 
them, although they were pretty large 
chickens for a hawk to catch. The 
next morning another one was gone, 
and so it went on for several mornings, 
until five of the beautiful Rhode Island 
Reds were gone, yet no one had seen a 
hawk flying around. 




72 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


One night the mother did not go 
away after feeding Sally, but for some 
reason, which she did not understand 
herself, she stood watching the chick¬ 
ens picking up the crumbs from Sally’s 
trough when suddenly that bad pig 
turned like a flash, made one quick 
grab at the handsome fowl nearest to 
her, and the next minute it had gone 
forever down Sally’s big throat. 

Perhaps you can tell something 
about how this good mother felt when 
she thus knew what had become of her 
beautiful young chickens. Sally was 
living high, chicken for supper every 
night. 

So the mother called Constance and 
together they drove the chickens into 
their roosting place and shut them in 
so that they could not get to Sally again. 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


73 


When the father came home he was 
told the story of Sally’s bad deeds. 

“Well, that’s too bad,” he said, “for 
nothing can be done with her, now 
that she has formed that bad habit. 
She can never be broken of it.” 

So the next morning, bright and 
early, Sally was taken to the butcher 
and was made into pork and perhaps 
Constance had some of her fried. But 
whether she did or not, she and her 
mother had learned a very sharp les¬ 
son, and although they lived on a farm 
a great many years after that time, 
they never again allowed chickens to 
feed in the pen with a young pig. 

“All pigs do not eat chickens,” said 
the father, “but you never can tell 
when a young pig will get the habit, 
and as pigs are a great deal like people, 




74 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


habits once formed are hard to break. 
We will just watch out and not let the 
bad habits get hold either of the pigs 
or the people.” 








She Heard a Clattering In the Kitchen 


A COW IN THE KITCHEN 

She was a handsome white cow and 
she had given them a foaming pail of 
milk, then she had been turned into 
the pasture lot which joined the house 
yard with a gate between. As soon as 
breakfast was over the father had gone 
off down town to his business, the 
children were made ready for school, 
and then the mother thought she 







76 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


would take a little time to run around 
and look at her flowers blooming in 
the front yard. 

The house was built with a basement 
dining room and kitchen, so that the 
floors of these two rooms were on a 
level with the ground of the back yard. 

The mother spent more time with 
her flowers than she had meant to, for 
there were so many beautiful ones to 
admire, and also a great many weeds 
to pull up. But suddenly, as she was 
bending over a bed of pansies, she 
heard a great clattering in the kitchen. 
What in the world could it mean? She 
straightened up and listened. Yes, 
there was no mistake, there was a 
sound of breaking dishes and it came 
from the kitchen, so she started on a 
run for the back door. As she ran she 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


77 


was wondering what could be making 
all the noise, the children were at school 
and they didn’t keep a dog or cat and 
neither did the nearest neighbors. 

When she finally came to the kitchen 
door she found she could not get 
through. What do you suppose kept 
her out of her own kitchen? That 
handsome white cow that had given 
them such fine milk was standing in 
the doorway and the mother could 
hear the dishes falling and breaking 
although she could not see what the 
cow was doing because her big body 
hid from sight what was going on in 
the kitchen. The mother saw at once 
the only thing to do. 

She ran around to the front door, 
rushed down the stairs, and came at 
the cow from the front, yelling at her 




78 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


and waving her arms furiously. Bos¬ 
sy was of course dreadfully frightened, 
and she backed out the door at once. 
When the mother tried to drive her 
back into the field she found that she 
had torn down the big, strong gate. 

The mother knew it would not do 
to let the unruly creature run about 
just where she pleased, because she 
would dig up her flower beds and tear 
down her beautiful shrubs, many of 
which had been a long time in grow¬ 
ing, so she managed, after a long time, 
to drive her into the barn and then she 
shut and fastened the heavy doors, 
which she thought would be too much 
for Bossy’s strength to tear down. 

Then the mother went back to the 
kitchen to see what she had done to 
the breakfast table, which on that 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


79 


morning had been set in the kitchen 
and which the mother in her hurry to 
see her flowers had not yet cleared. 
But as soon as she came into the kitch¬ 
en she saw that the bad cow had saved 
her that trouble. She had knocked 
the dishes onto the floor and broken 
all of them, and the victuals she had 
put into her own big stomach. A 
plate full of biscuits, a pat of butter, a 
piece of beefsteak, all the sugar in the 
bowl, some oatmeal mush, and even a 
pitcher full of her own milk, then she 
had finished up the job by chewing 
one of the linen napkins. 

Perhaps I don’t need to tell you 
that bad unruly cow was soon made 
into nice fresh red beef. Don’t you 
think that was what she deserved? 





She Had Twelve Fluffy White Chicks 


THE VISIT NEXT DOOR 

She was a big hen as black as a 
coal and she had twelve fluffy white 
chickens. They were a pretty sight 
when they were all feeding together, 
one big black spot with those tiny 
white spots around it. 

They all lived in a beautiful, grassy 
back yard with a high board fence all 
around it so that nothing could come 
in to harm them. There were sunny 


80 










OPEN AIR STORIES 


81 


spots where they could go when the air 
was chilly, and shady places where 
they could rest when the sun was too 
hot for comfort. Then there was a 
nice snug coop into which they could 
run at night and be shut up safe and 
sound until morning, so that neither 
hungry rats nor prowling cats could 
get at them and harm them. 

You would have thought, wouldn’t 
you, that with plenty to eat in this 
nice, safe place they would have been 
very happy? And so they were, gen¬ 
erally, but one unlucky day as the big 
black hen was hunting around for 
bugs, flies, grasshoppers and things of 
that sort which fowls of all kinds, big 
and little, love to eat, her sharp eyes 
found a hole in the tall fence which 
was built between her home yard and 




82 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


the garden next door. In a minute 
she had, with loud duckings, pushed 
her way through the break in the 
boards and her fluffy little babies 
quickly followed. 

I am sure you will see that was a 
bold thing to do, what a boy or a 
girl would call an “adventure,” be¬ 
cause it was going off to a strange 
place where they knew nothing about 
what they should see or hear. 

The very first thing that came under 
the old mother hen’s eyes was some¬ 
thing which she dearly loved and that 
was a little patch of plowed ground, 
and she started for it just as fast as 
her two lively feet could carry her. 
Do you know why fowls of all kinds 
love the plowed ground? It is because 
when the plow turns the ground over, 





“There Is That Old Black 


Hen from Next Door” 


83 
































































































































84 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


bugs ^nd worms of all kinds come to 
the top where the fowls can catch and 
eat them. What a good time they 
had right away, for there was no 
plowed ground in their home yard, 
nothing but the soft green grass. But 
in the midst of their fine time some 
one in the house looked out the win¬ 
dow. “0!” was the cry, “there is that 
old black hen from next door and all 
her chickens right in the middle of our 
flower bed. She will soon have all 
our flower seeds scratched up. Where 
isFido. ComeFido,Fido.” Thedoor 
was thrown open and out went Fido. 
Now Fido was a little dog, not much 
bigger than the old black hen herself, 
but he was a dog, and that was quite 
enough when he came tearing down to 
the plowed ground. 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


85 


The old hen flew this way and that 
and clucked and clucked, but she could 
not find the place where she had come 
through, for tall weeds grew all over it 
on that side of the fence, so there was 
nothing left for her to do but to spread 
her heavy black wings and fly over the 
fence, which she did with many loud 
cacklings and duckings. The little 
baby chicks could not fly so high, and 
so they ran around looking here and 
there and everywhere, for little holes 
where they could crawl through. They 
yipped so loud and so long that the 
people in both houses had to come out 
and hunt around in the grass for them 
and carry them back. For this reason 
it was nearly dark before the last one 
of the twelve was back in its own yard 
and safe under its mother’s big warm 




86 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


wings. I am sure you will believe me 
when I tell you that was the last time 
the old black hen went off to the neigh¬ 
bor’s for a visit. 










TOODLES FOUND A WAY 

Toodles was very unhappy. He was 
shut out of his home and forced to lie 
either in a ragged old hammock on 
the front porch or else in a hard wooden 
chair. Yet all the while, as he well 
knew, the big chair with its soft cush¬ 
ion was lying unused in the cool sitting 
room. 

He couldn’t stand it to lie there on 
the porch in the hot sun any longer, 

87 







88 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


so he ran around to the back of the 
house, hoping he might find a crack 
somewhere through which he might 
slip into his favorite resting spot. But 
it was no use; every place was closed 
up as tight as a drum and while he 
stood looking around and wondering 
where he should go next, he heard a 
soft voice calling, '‘Come doggie, dog¬ 
gie.” 

The voice came from above. He 
looked up and there was a kind, gentle 
face looking over the railing and still 
calling, “Come doggie, come doggie.” 

Then he noticed there was a long 
flight of stairs leading up to the spot 
from where the kind face was watching 
him. He knew all about stairs and 
could run up them more easily than 
some people. So he decided to learn 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


89 


if he could why this gentle voice kept 
on calling, “Come doggie.” When he 
had reached the top he was called into 
the house and given a nice piece of 
meat. 

After he had eaten the meat he 
looked around as a smart dog should 
and saw an open door, so he went out 
the door and found himself in a long 
hall. He kept on going and soon came 
to another long flight of stairs, but he 
went down these instead of up, and 
when he came to the bottom, O, joy! 
there he was in the front hall, and the 
sitting room door was open, so in 
another minute he had jumped upon 
the big chair and curled himself down 
in the soft cushion, and with a deep 
sigh of content he was soon sound 
asleep. 




90 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


When his mistress came home about 
six o’clock to get her husband’s 
supper she was very much surprised to 
find Toodles asleep in the easy chair. 
She went around at once to all the 
doors and windows, but found every¬ 
thing fastened up tight. 

“Well, I am certainly growing for¬ 
getful,” thought his mistress, “for I 
was just sure that I had put that dog 
out doors.” 

A few days afterward, the mistress 
went away again, and she was just as 
sure as before that she had put Toodles 
out doors, but when she came home 
at night there was the naughty fellow 
asleep in the easy chair as comfortable 
as ever. 

This went on for many days, and 
every time it happened the mistress 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


91 


was more and more worried because 
she could not remember to put the 
dog out of the house when she went 
away. It did not seem possible that 
she could forget him every single time 
that way, and yet there he was, always 
in the big chair when she came home. 

Of course Toodles couldn’t have told 
even if he had wanted to, just how he 
managed to get into the house every 
time, and the lady up stairs didn’t tell 
because she didn’t think it made any 
difference. Then one day something 
happened. The mistress put Toodles 
out and shut the front door about an 
hour before she left home, thinking in 
that way she could make no mistake 
about having made everything all 
tight. 




92 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


So Toodles of course thought that 
his mistress had gone and now was his 
time to go around in the usual way to 
find his easy chair. So he set out, but 
O dear, dear, wasn’t it too bad? Just 
as he was running down the front stairs 
to get to the sitting room, his mistress 
was coming through the hall to go 
out the front door.” 

“O,” she said aloud, “so I’ve caught 
you at last, my smart little dog. ” Then 
she put him out the front door again, 
and soon after she went away. When 
he saw her going up the street he went 
up stairs and was soon in the hall as 
usual, but he was surprised to find 
both the sitting room and parlor doors 
closed tight. So the only place for 
him to lie was on the hard polished 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


S3 


floor of the hall. There was not even a 
rug to console him. 

Did he stay there long? No indeed. 
he thought even the ragged hammock 
or the hard porch chairs were better 
than that. And so at last his fun was 
over. Wasn’t that too bad? 











A BIG CRUMB AND A LITTLE 
BIRD 


“Let us go to the park, sit by the 
pond and feed the fishes,” coaxed little 
Annis Marie in her sweetest tones. 

As little Annis Marie and her de¬ 
voted auntie lived in Los Angeles, it 
was a very easy matter to carry out 
the wishes of the little three-year-old, 
and they set out at once, the child 
carrying a paper sack full of bread 
crumbs. The walk was a short one 
and in a few minutes they were seated 
near the pond and Annis Marie was 
eagerly throwing the bread crumbs to 
the fishes. 

Suddenly they heard the joyous song 
of a bird and the aunt, who was a 
great bird lover, called out, “0, look 

94 

















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Throwing Bread Crumbs to the Fish 


95 






















































96 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


quick, Annis, that is the song of a 
Western Lark Sparrow. Can you say 
that long name? It is not very easy 
for a baby tongue.” 

Annis thought she could say it and 
she did. 

“But where is it?” she asked, the 
next minute. 

“On the lowest limb of that biggest 
acacia tree. See, it is that bird of 
brownish gray, looks something like 
an English sparrow, the sides of its 
head are of a chestnut color with black 
and white streaks on it. See him now, 
and just hear him sing.” 

“Yes, I see him,” said the child as 
she threw a piece of bread nearly as 
large as a hen’s egg into the water. 

She had come there to “feed the 
fishes,” and she did not mean to have 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


97 


anything else turn her mind aside from 
that one subject. 

Suddenly, while she was watching 
the big crumb which she had thrown 
into the water, down flew the bird 
from his perch right over the pond and 
struck the big crumb with his feet 
then he flew back to the rim of the 
pond and sung as if he thought he had 
done something. 

When he came to the end of his song 
he flew at the crumb again, giving it 
another shove with his feet. 

By this time, Annis was so inter¬ 
ested in the bird, his song and his 
funny ways with the crumb, that she 
seemed for the moment to lose all in¬ 
terest in the fish. 

“Auntie,” she said, “don’t you 
think that bird is trying to get that 




98 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


nice big crumb away from the fish?” 

“Maybe,” was the answer, “he 
seems to be trying to do something 
with it. But do you care who has it?” 

“No,” was the answer, as the bird 
came down for the third time and 
pushed the crumb farther along, “only 
I think the bird is working so hard for 
it, he is really the one that ought to 
have it.” 

They sat for several minutes watch¬ 
ing the busy little fellow, then, as he 
kept on coming down to the water, 
hitting the crumb harder and harder 
and giving them good measures of song 
between whiles, Annis said: 

“Now, auntie, the bird has pushed 
the crumb near the shore and I think 
you ought to help him, because he’s 
sung a whole lot for us.” 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


99 


“So he has,” said the aunt, “and 
it’s time he collected pay for his con¬ 
cert.” 

She went to the spot near the crumb, 
pulled it to the shore with a short 
stick, and the little fellow was so tame 
that he flew down to eat it before she 
had walked three steps away. Then 
he flew up singing with all his might. 

“I’m going to tell mother about the 
Western Lark Sparrow with the black, 
spot on his breast, when I get home,” 
said Annis Marie. 

“Yes,” said her auntie, “and tell 
her too that you can’t see these pretty 
birds anywhere except in California 
and other far western states, It is a 
good little bird, catches insects that 
eat up the farmer’s wheat, so you must 




100 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


tell everybody never to kill one of the 
dear, merry little creatures. Can you 
remember?” 

“Yes, I’ll remember,” she said, nod¬ 
ding her baby head very fast. And 
she did, for as soon as she reached 
home she told her mother all about 
the Western Lark Sparrow, for you 
must know that this story, like all the 
rest in this book, is about something 
which really happened. 














“Yes, I’ll Remember ” She Said, Nodding Her Little Head 



101 






HAPPY’S WAY 

“We must not let Happy go with us 
to the office,” decided his master, one 
bright spring morning. “He is so full 
of mischief he gets into all sorts of 
trouble with the raft of dogs that are 
always running around on Main 
street.” 


102 









OPEN AIR STORIES 


103 


So all the doors were closed and 
locked and, as the windows were screen¬ 
ed, there was no possible way for Hap¬ 
py to get out of the house. Therefore 
his master and mistress went off con¬ 
tented. 

They had been gone less than a hour, 
however, when, on someone coming 
into the office from outdoors, in walked 
Happy at the same time, looking just 
like his name. 

No one could have been more sur¬ 
prised to see the pretty fellow than 
were his master and mistress, and they 
wondered and wondered, all day, how 
he had managed to pass the closed 
doors and the screened windows. 

When they reached home at night 
the very first thing they did was to go 
the rounds of the house and see if ev- 




104 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


erything was just as they had left it. 
They found that the bath-room win¬ 
dow was open and also that it was un¬ 
screened, a fact which they had for¬ 
gotten, but this window opened on 
the roof of a high porch, and if Happy 
had jumped from that porch he would 
surely have broken some bones. 

So, the next morning, when they 
were ready to start for the office again, 
they decided there was nothing to be 
done but to try the same plan, so 
they went off leaving the dog safely 
locked in the house. The queer story 
was repeated; Happy came to the of¬ 
fice early in the forenoon. 

They then decided that he must have 
howled and thus made himself so dis¬ 
agreeable that the neighbors had let 
him out. 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


105 


As soon as his mistress reached home 
at night she called on her next neighbor 
and asked her about Happy. 

“Why,” was the prompt answer, “I 
didn’t hear a sound from him, but not 
very long after you went away I saw 
him running across my lawn, and I 
wondered where he came from. I’ll 
watch him tomorrow and perhaps I 
can tell how he gets out.” 

But everything was just the same 
the next day. The neighbor forgot all 
about him until she saw him running 
across her lawn. So it ran on for sev¬ 
eral days. They went through the 
motions every day of fastening the 
smart dog in the house, and he worked 
himself out in some way, but no one 
could find out just what his way was. 




106 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


One morning his mistress stayed at 
home to do a little piece of work, and 
she said to herself: 

“Now Happy will stay at home 
where he ought to be.” 

But his master had been gone but a 
few minutes when, as his mistress was 
washing her hands in the bathroom, 
Happy ran into the room and jumped 
out of the window. His mistress 
quickly put her head out the window 
to see what he would do. What was 
her surprise to see him run across the 
roof, on which he had landed, and 
jump very quickly into the window of 
the next neighbor’s house. 

“Oh,” said the mistress to herself, 
“now, old fellow, I have found you 
out. You run down the stairs in the 
next house and then all you have to 




OPEN AIR STORIES 


107 


do is to put your forefeet against the 
unhooked screen door and away you 
go as free as the wind. But this is the 
last time you will play that trick on 
us, for now we’ll screen the bathroom 
window.” 

The funniest part of this true story 
is that before the little lady had fin¬ 
ished washing and wiping her hands, 
back came Happy through the window 
again. 

“Ah,” said his mistress, greatly 
pleased, petting the smart dog on the 
head, “you’d rather stay with your 
mistress than to go off and leave her.” 

About an hour after Happy’s return 
his mistress was out in her yard and 
the next neighbor came out in hers. 

Then the story of Happy’s cunning 
was at once told of over the fence. 




108 


OPEN AIR STORIES 


“But he didn’t go off this time,” 
said his mistress at the last, “he came 
back in a very few minutes. I suppose 
because-” 

“Yes,” interrupted the next neigh¬ 
bor, “because I’ve been away all the 
morning and the screen door was 
hooked.” 


Finis 











0 




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AUNTESTESSIORItSrflfe 

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PUBLISHED BY 

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TUfc HCRRY BOOK OF- THRIFT'"'--. \ 

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PUBLISHED BY 

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A STORY OF THRIFT, GOOD HEALTH & HAPPINESS 






























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